The Heart of a Lion
by GeneHuntress
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and a puzzled Alex has stumbled over Gene's list of resolutions ...
1. Chapter 1

A bit of new Galex to welcome in 2012. Chapter One has a New Year theme so I wanted to get it posted this weekend - the rest may take a little longer, so bear with me!  
>As ever, I don't own these two. Oh, how I wish …<p>

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**The Heart of a Lion**

**Chapter 1**

Alex blinked hard and examined the piece of paper again, surreptitiously checking that nobody in CID was watching. She knew she really shouldn't be prying, but she'd been flicking through his diary, it had fallen out, and now she couldn't resist the temptation. It was a list of New Years resolutions scrawled in Gene's distinctive hand.

'One, drink less. Two, cut down on the fags.' Yeah, right. 'Three, exercise more.' She snorted. Gene's idea of a daily workout was to make it from the Quattro to their table in Luigi's without breaking into a sweat. Unless you counted bedroom activities, of course. A dreamy look came over her face and she shook herself, re-reading the fourth entry. It consisted of just one word. 'French.'

She knew Gene hated anything with even the remotest Francophile connection, so what could it be referring to? Films? Fries? Kissing? She sighed. The latter was something he definitely didn't need any lessons in, although she really didn't mind him practising. Regularly.

She replaced the slip of paper and closed her eyes, allowing herself to fall into a daydream about their most recent amorous encounter, and a bolt of desire shot through her. Three months now, and they'd barely spent a night apart. And what nights …

"Something I can do fer yer, Lady Bols?"

He was leaning against the doorframe watching her intently, usual grumpy pout in place but the wicked glint in his eye betrayed him. Well, two could play at that game. She crossed one leg elegantly over the other, looking up at him from under lowered lashes.

"Hmmm … now let me think …"

She hitched her skirt up slowly, seeing his eyes narrow as her stocking top was finally revealed. He pushed the door to and swiftly closed the gap between them, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

"Come over here, yer dirty mare."

He sprawled in his chair and she moved round until she was perched on the desk next to him, close but not touching, legs parted invitingly. Piercing blue eyes locked with hazel green as his hand crept slowly up her inner thigh, both holding the gaze as though daring the other to call a halt before things went too far. To anyone in the outer office they appeared to be having a perfectly innocent discussion, but they couldn't hear her sharp intake of breath as his fingers reached soft skin and strayed higher.

"Bugger. Bloody Skelton on the approach."

He removed his hand and she huffed in frustration, crossing her arms. He smirked.

"Always did 'ave lousy timin', that boy …"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The inevitable had finally happened one night in early October after a particularly harrowing day. As if the discovery of the partly decomposed body of a teenage girl wasn't bad enough, she'd apparently been the victim of a brutal rape and murder, and Alex kept seeing a recurring vision of Molly in her mind's eye, lost, alone and vulnerable. She knew Evan was reliable and trustworthy, but he wasn't a mother, didn't have her maternal instincts. She was the one who should be there for her daughter, looking out for her, protecting her. The obsessive fears threatened to overwhelm her, and she avoided Luigi's that evening, curling up on the sofa under a blanket with a bottle of red and finally crying herself to sleep. She was woken by a familiar pounding on the door, dragging herself over to answer it, surprised to find she was actually relieved to see him.

He took one look at her puffy eyes and trembling lower lip and lead her gently back to the sofa, pulling her onto his lap and letting her sob her heart out as he rocked her in his arms, waiting for the storm to pass. As she calmed, she became gradually aware that her face was buried in his neck, her fingers were tangled in his silky mane and her thigh was pressing against his groin. The nearness of him seemed to heighten all her senses: his musky masculine scent filling her nostrils, the softness of his hair under her fingertips and the warmth of the hand stroking comfortingly up and down her back were sending little shockwaves through her body. She wanted to taste his skin, hear the catch in his breathing as he felt the touch of her lips and see his eyes darken with desire.

She felt his pulse quicken as if he were reading her thoughts and she couldn't resist any longer, pressing her mouth to his neck in a hot open-mouthed kiss. He stiffened and pulled back, his eyes searching hers in confusion.

"Bols?"

She traced a finger slowly along his lower lip and a shiver ran through him. His voice was gruff.

"Alex, stop. Yer just feeling vulnerable tonight. Yer don' mean it …"

Her eyes moved back up from his lips to meet his gaze challengingly.

"Yes I do. I want you, Gene, have done for ages. I was just too pig-headed to do anything about it till now."

She leaned in and pressed her mouth to his and for a moment he didn't respond. Then slowly, tentatively he began to return the kiss and she opened willingly to his questing tongue, her arms going round his neck as he pulled her tightly against him. He tasted of wine and whiskey, and for a while she was oblivious to everything except the softness of his lips and the heavenly sensation of his tongue exploring, probing, sensually entwining with hers.

Breathlessly they pulled apart and he lifted her chin, his eyes searching hers for permission to continue. Need and want were warring with uncertainty, and she smiled seductively at him, certain now that this was what she wanted.

"Take me to bed, Gene …"

Suddenly it was as though a dam had burst and pent up desire overcame any inhibitions, rampant, wild and unconstrained. They kissed hungrily, desperately, attempting to shed their clothes without losing contact all the way to the bedroom. And then at long last he was above her, inside her, and she raised her hips to meet him thrust for thrust, raking her nails down his back and crying out his name as blissful release finally claimed her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was New Year's Eve, a night she'd never really enjoyed and indeed sometimes dreaded. And yet here she was, sitting in Luigi's with a glass of chilled champagne, rolling her eyes at Shaz as Chris and Ray made prats of themselves trying to drink lighted Sambucas, and watching the man she loved make his way back through the crowd with another bottle of fizz.

She gazed transfixed as he narrowly avoided a drunken couple, moving as elegantly as a dancer, preserving himself and his precious cargo and falling into the seat next to her with a relieved grin.

"Blimey, it's murder on the dance floor tonight, Bols."

"But you'd better not kill the groove …"

"Wot?"

She suppressed a smile at his look of confusion.

"Never mind. Just pour me another glass and tell me we can sneak away before midnight."

He leaned in close, his warm breath against her ear making her shiver.

"Why? Fancy seein' the New Year in just me 'an you? Possibly horizontally?"

She gazed up at him seductively.

"It appears that you can count mind-reading among your many and varied skills, Mr Hunt."

The lustful gleam in his silver-grey eyes was making her tingle with anticipation. A hand moved up her thigh and squeezed gently.

"Get yer coat, luv. Yer've pulled …"

.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hope you enjoyed. If you did, please let me know. Champagne and canapés to everyone who bothers! And a Happy New Year all round. :)


	2. Chapter 2

I'm always cheered by the kind reviews, so a big thankyou as ever. Here's the next instalment, hope you enjoy …

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 2**

"Saturday night, Bols. Me and you. Nice restaurant. Wear something posh."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Sounds lovely. Where are you taking me?"

He pouted at her.

"Now that'd spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was the beginning of February, a light dusting of snow lay on the pavements and New Year was long forgotten. Alex was getting ready for their big date, putting a lot of effort into her appearance even though she had no idea what the occasion was. Four month anniversary, maybe? Whatever it was, she got the feeling it was important to Gene, and that was enough for her.

He picked her up on the dot of seven, well wrapped up in his long coat, and she slid gratefully into the warm passenger seat of the Quattro. She'd dressed to impress more than for comfort, and her long clinging ivory dress and matching stole weren't doing much to keep the cold out. It'd had been worth it though, just to see the unconstrained desire in his eyes as they raked over her.

"Bloody Hell. Yer scrub up well, Bols."

She'd just smiled serenely, but she had to admit she loved the effect she was having on him.

They pulled up on the opposite side of the road to 'Chez Marcel', and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She'd always wanted to come here but never had the opportunity, and it was the last place she'd expected Gene to bring her to.

Her eyes were shining as he walked round to the passenger door and offered his hand to help her out.

"Shall we?"

She beamed at him.

"Gene. What a treat! Unless we're really going to the chippy down the road, of course …"

His lips twitched.

"Wouldn't 'ave made yer get all dressed up fer that now, would I?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Their table was discreetly positioned in an alcove affording them a view of the other diners but a reasonable amount of privacy at the same time. He pulled her chair out and once she was comfortably seated removed his coat and handed it to a nearby waiter. Was that a new suit, she wondered? Charcoal grey with a pale blue shirt and a matching silk tie which brought out the colour of his eyes to perfection. He looked good enough to eat and she almost suggested they skip dinner and rush straight home. Only almost, though. She was going to enjoy this.

Their waiter approached with menus, and offered them an aperitif while they browsed. And now came the second big surprise of the evening.

"Un pastis pour moi, et un kir royale pour madam, s'il vous plait."

Alex's chin practically hit the floor. The Guv did not speak French. In fact, he was known to have hit people who did.

"OK, who are you, and what have you done with Gene Hunt?"

He flashed her a genuine smile, slightly embarrassed but clearly proud of himself.

"Been teachin' meself, at least enough ter get by tonight, I hope."

She reached across the table and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Gene, you are full of surprises. And you never have to do anything to impress me, you know. You do that just by being you."

"Just wanted tonight ter be special, Bols."

The waiter returned before she could ask him why, and he waited for her to order first.

"Le potage du jour et le coq au vin, s'il vous plait."

Gene cleared his throat and spoke up confidently.

"Les escargots, et un steak frites. Bien cuit, s'il vous plait."

He ordered a decent bottle of Burgundy to accompany the food, and the waiter bowed, his eyes lingering on Alex's cleavage a couple of seconds longer than necessary as he removed the menus with a flourish.

"Merci, monsieur …'dame. Bon appetite."

Alex raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Snails, Gene?"

He tried to look nonchalant.

"Just thought I should try 'em, once in me life at least …"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first two courses had been declared delicious, and now they were taking a pause while they decided whether to tackle a dessert or not.

"Yer know the rules, Bols. Starter, mains and a pud. No givin' up now."

He smirked at her, and she toyed with the stem of her wineglass, meeting his silver gaze flirtatiously.

"But I'm already full Guv, and if I eat too much I'll just fall asleep before bedtime. And we don't want that, do we?"

His lips twitched.

"Don't worry yerself about that, luv. I'm sure I can find some way of keepin' yer awake later …"

In the end they shared a delicious lemon soufflé, and she made sure to lick the spoon lasciviously, enjoying watching him suffer.

The coffees and liqueurs arrived, and she thought she detected a tension in him that wasn't there previously. He took a deep breath, his long fingers fiddling with a napkin.

"Just wondering, Bols. When did yer last see yer daughter?"

She sighed and her heart constricted. Why did he have to ask about Molly? Especially tonight when she'd succeeded in forgetting, just for an hour or two.

"It's been … a while."

He didn't meet her eye, clearly trying to choose his words carefully.

"Alex, wherever she is, we could find a way to visit, yer know."

She knew he was just trying to help, but suddenly the evening was spoiled and she felt hollow inside.

"I don't really want to talk about it, OK? Not now. Not tonight."

"Look, if yer ex is being a bastard, there's ways ter sort it. It's not right fer a mother ter be parted from her child, the courts know that."

Tears started to prick her eyes and she blinked several times, digging her nails into her palm.

"Please, Gene. Just leave it, will you?"

"Let me 'elp, luv. I've got contacts."

He reached across the table for her hand, but she withdrew it, aware of the tear trickling down her face.

"Believe it or not, Gene, there are some things even the all-powerful Manc Lion can't sort. I need some air, I'll see you back at the car."

She stood, throwing her stole around her shoulders and stalking out of the restaurant, and he watched her leave with a distraught expression on his face. He sighed heavily, brows furrowed, running his fingers through his hair distractedly. He hated seeing her unhappy, all he'd wanted to do was help, but it had back-fired on him badly. Well done, Genie boy, you've well and truly messed it up now.

He waved the waiter over.

"Forget the champagne, mate. Just fetch me the bill, will yer?"

As the man wandered off to comply, Gene reached into his inside jacket pocket. The little jewellery box containing the ring was still safely nestled there. Some other time, he thought sadly …

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

My French is a little rusty, so if it's not perfect, many apologies. Although it would be quite appropriate if Gene hadn't got it spot on anyway!  
>All feedback is most welcome, as ever. And a Happy New Year all round. :)<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the kind reviews, as ever. It appears smut bunny has made an unexpected return this chapter, but it seems only fair to let 'em have some fun before the angst returns …

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 3**

She was sitting on the bonnet of the Quattro, hugging herself against the cold, as he crossed the street and stood awkwardly on the pavement in front of her. Any other time he'd have barked at her to get her bony arse off his car, but not now. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet.

"Alex, I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted ter do was upset yer, specially tonight."

She bit her lip and then closed the gap between them, resting her head on his shoulder as his arms went round her and he nuzzled into her hair. She sighed. How could she possibly begin to explain?

"I'm sorry too, I over-reacted. It's just … complicated …"

He tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes. The ghost of a smile played around his lips.

"Am I still on a promise, then?"

She chuckled, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"I do love you, Mr Hunt. And I can't wait to see that suit on my bedroom floor. Does that answer your question?"

He pouted, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.

"I'll 'ave yer know that suit cost me a fortune, it's goin' ter be hung up properly. Might let yer rip me shirt 'n tie off though, if yer ask nicely."

"Deal. Now, shall we go home before I freeze to death?"

"Best idea yer've had all night, Bols."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later, when he was buried deep inside her listening to her little mews and gasps of pleasure and looking down into her face, now contorted with bliss, a fierce joy swelled in his heart. She was here with him now. She'd told him she loved him. The rest could wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene was in a quandary, which was pretty much uncharted territory for him. Where and when should he propose now? He couldn't very well do the posh restaurant thing again, it would look too obvious. And CID and Luigi's were way too public. What if she said she had to think about it, or worse, turned him down?

As the days went on, the doubts started to creep in. She'd said she loved him, but they hadn't really been together that long. And what kind of a catch was he, after all? Posh birds like her ended up with men like Evan White, not an ageing Northern flatfoot with a drink problem and commitment issues.

But she wasn't with White, was she? She could've been, there was no doubt in Gene's mind that Evan fancied her, but she'd chosen to be with him. Maybe he was just a bit of rough, though, someone to have fun in the sack with until the real thing appeared.

And why on earth was he proposing anyway? They fine as they were, so why did he need to rock the boat?  
>Round and round it all went in his head, driving him slowly mad and making him irritable and snappy with everyone he came into contact with.<p>

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex had no idea what was eating him recently. Three weeks had gone by since their evening at 'Chez Marcel', and several people had approached her individually in CID to ask what was bothering the Guv, and could she do anything about it? He was like a bear with a sore head and everybody was treading on eggshells, frightened of getting on the wrong side of him.

She racked her brains. They were getting on great outside work, in truth things couldn't be much better. Not only was she having the best sex of her life, they genuinely enjoyed one another's company, spending very little time apart nowadays. He took his turn at cooking and washing up afterwards, and she'd even caught him vacuuming the flat one day. In fact, Gene Hunt was becoming quite the new man. Suddenly, everything fell into place. Call yourself a psychologist, Alex, she thought?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that day, after everyone else had left for Luigi's, she wandered into his office and leant against a filing cabinet, arms crossed.

"So. What's this all about, then?"

He pouted up at her, brows furrowed.

"Wot?"

"The irritability, the snappiness. Nobody can do a thing right at the moment."

He looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes.

"They're a load of slackers, need a bomb under 'em to get 'em movin' most of the time. An I've been … distracted …"

She raised an eyebrow.

"By me, you mean? Come on, Guv, let's get this out in the open, shall we? You mean you feel you've taken your eye off the ball since we got together."

He looked up at her, his face unreadable.

"I'm in danger of turnin' soft, Bols. Can't let that 'appen."

She deliberately allowed her gaze to drop to his crotch and linger there.

"Believe me, Gene, there's nothing soft about you."

He didn't reply, but there was a definite twitch of the lips and she knew just how to play this now. Not only that, she was going to enjoy it.

"So, apparently I'm at fault for distracting my DCI from his vital police duties. If that's the case, I deserve to be severely reprimanded …"

She held his gaze challengingly, and he noticed the slight flush on her cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She was already getting off on this scenario, the dirty mare. He ignored the tightening of his trousers for a couple of seconds while he considered what to do next, and then he stifled a wicked grin, getting to his feet and closing the gap until they were inches apart. Silver blue eyes locked onto hazel green, and his voice was a low growl.

"So, DI Drake, it appears you have flouted my authority yet again and I need to discipline you. As your superior officer, I expect you to follow my orders without question from now on. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

Her voice was breathy with desire, and he could feel the heat radiating off her. He was looking forwards to this.

"Close all the blinds and lock the door, and then stand by the desk where I can see you."

"Yes, Sir."

He shrugged off his jacket and sat back in the chair with his arms crossed, and she moved to stand nearby, her eyes demurely on the floor.

"Right, Drake. You are goin' ter strip for me, and then you are goin' to bend over this desk and accept yer punishment. Any questions?"

Her head flew up, and her eyes widened, but she didn't falter.

"No, Sir."

"When yer ready …"

Slowly she began to unbutton her blouse, sliding it from her shoulders and dropping it to the floor. His eyes lingered over her impressive cleavage while she unzipped her skirt and slid it elegantly over her hips before stepping out of it. Sweet Jesus, those endless legs in stockings and stilettos were almost enough to give him a heart attack already. Keep a grip, Genie boy.

She reached round to undo her bra, and his eyes devoured her perfect breasts while she made as if to unclip her suspenders.

"Leave the stockings, Drake. And the shoes."

The ghost of a smile played around her lips, and then she slipped her thong down over her thighs and stepped out of it before kicking it away and standing unashamed in front of him. Christ, she was beautiful. He wondered if his legs would support him now that most of the blood seemed to have rushed to his groin.

He stood, with rather more confidence than he felt, and she moved past him, deliberately brushing her breasts against his chest before turning to bend forwards over the desk, legs spread provocatively. He looked down at her peachy backside, framed prettily by her remaining underwear, and thanked whichever deity had delivered Alex Drake to him.

Freeing himself from his trousers with some relief, he kicked her legs further apart and leaned over her so she could feel his erection pressing into her back, and was rewarded with a wriggle and a groan. He whispered close to her ear.

"Are you wet for me, DI Drake?"

"Oh God, yes …"

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

"Yes … Sir."

He moved away and slipped two questing fingers inside her, pumping them in and out, and she writhed against his hand with a gasp.

"Ohhh … Please, Gene … Guv …"

He chuckled.

"You are such a naughty girl, DI Drake. And naughty girls get punished …"

He took her hard and fast while the desk creaked in protest, loving the little cries and whimpers she was making and gritting his teeth, hoping he could hold on. His powerful thrusts drove her relentlessly towards climax until she came apart under him with a guttural moan of pleasure, shuddering and clenching round him. Finally, he allowed himself to fall into the sweet oblivion of release with a groan of triumph, feeling like a God.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Blood Hell, Alex."

"I know …"

He felt her smile against his neck. She was sat in his lap, snuggled against his chest while their heart rates returned to something approaching normal. His long fingers toyed with her suspender belt while his chin rested on the top of her head.

"Definitely need to discipline yer more often, if that's the result."

"Mmmm. Yes please …"

She nibbled on his earlobe and he groaned.

"Christ, woman, what are yer doin' ter me? Sergeant Rock's already twitchin' again."

"Home for round two, then?"

She moved out of his lap and began to get dressed while he watched, transfixed, and suddenly everything was very clear in his mind. He wanted to marry her because he couldn't imagine living without her, so why wait any longer? He'd ask her that night.

"Ready?"

She raised an eyebrow questioningly, and he reached down to the floor.

"Aren't yer forgettin' somethin'?"

He held her black lacy thong out to her but she shook her head, smiling seductively.

"What's the point? If I know you, it'll be off again in twenty minutes."

He smirked, tucking her knickers into his top pocket before following her out of CID.

.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hope you enjoyed. Off for a cold shower now, but I suspect there will be more.  
>All reviews gratefully received, as ever.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews, as ever. I'm afraid the angst bunny has visited this chapter!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 4**

They were snuggled up on the sofa watching TV, her in her pyjamas and him in the jeans and shirt he'd thrown on in order to grab a takeaway from Luigi's earlier. Her head was nestled into his chest, her leg thrown casually over his, and one of his elegant fingers was tracing little patterns on her arm. He didn't feel much like moving, worn out with great sex and with a stomach full of pasta, but there was no time like the present.

She mumbled in protest as he shifted, reluctant to let him get up.

"Mmmm, Gene … was just nodding off …"

She rubbed her eyes as he extricated himself from underneath her.

"Sorry, luv. Just somethin' I need ter do. Won' be a minute."

He wandered into the bedroom and retrieved the little box from the back of the drawer, and his heart began to beat faster in his chest. Big step, he thought, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Now that he'd made the decision, there was no going back.

She blinked at him once or twice as he stood in front of her, looking down his feet awkwardly.

"Alex, there's something I've been meanin' ter ask yer for a while, just wasn't quite sure 'ow ter go about it. Oh, what the hell …"

He sank down on one knee, and her eyes widened in surprise as he held out the little box, open now so she could see the ring, the stones catching the light.

"Alex Drake, I luv yer, even though yer a complete fruitcake. Would yer do me the great honour of becomin' the next Mrs 'unt? …"

Alex raised her gaze to his familiar handsome face, filled now with hope and expectation, and then looked back down at the ring. It was beautiful, classy and understated. Platinum, she guessed, with a row of three stones, two small diamonds and a central aquamarine, a clear blue like his eyes. It was just the kind of thing she'd have chosen for herself, given the chance. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes began to fill up. How could she possibly agree to marry him when she was still fighting to get home, back to her little girl? It wouldn't be fair, even though she loved him with all her heart.

"Well, say somethin' will yer? I'm startin' ter lose the feelin' in me knee."

A tear trickled slowly down her cheek.

"Gene, it's beautiful. But I can't accept, not at the moment. I still don't know how long I'm going to be here. It's complicated, you wouldn't understand …"

The hurt and disappointment showed clearly in his face before he got awkwardly to his feet and went to find his coat. He turned back to her, and his eyes glittered like shards of ice.

"Oh, I understand all right, Bols. I'm not posh enough for yer, never will be. I should've known yer weren't serious about us. I was just a bit 'o rough ter have some fun with while yer waited fer someone better ter come along …"

The bitterness in his voice cut her to the quick, and she followed him to the door, the tears coursing down her face.

"Gene, it's not like that. Honestly. Don't go like this, at least stay and discuss it …"

She was clinging to his arm now, but he shook her off.

"What's ter discuss? I asked yer ter marry me, put meself on the line and yer threw it back in me face. End of. 'Ave a nice life."

And then he was gone and she closed the door behind him and slid down the back of it, sobbing her heart out. How could she possibly tell him the truth, he'd never believe her. And now she'd lost him …

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene stood outside Luigi's breathing heavily, his fists clenched so tightly it hurt, feeling as though he'd had his heart ripped out. He wanted to hit something, anything, as hard as he could, just to feel the physical pain. It'd be easier than this gut wrenching agony. How could he have been so stupid, letting a woman get to him like that? He should take a leaf out of Ray's book, love 'em and leave em, never let anyone get close.

Raymondo. He wondered if he'd be up for getting legless, he needed to drown out this pain in a sea of alcohol, maybe even pick up a bird for a meaningless shag. The sooner he got back in the saddle, so to speak, the better.

The trattoria was quiet, and Ray was sitting with Chris and Shaz looking extremely bored as the two love birds canoodled, virtually ignoring him. His face brightened considerably when he saw Gene.

"Guv! To what do we owe this pleasure? You two had a fight or something?"

Gene glowered.

"Yer could say that. We just split up."

Jaws dropped all round the table, and Shaz was the first to speak.

"Guv, what's happened? Are you alright?"

"Don't wan' ter talk about it, luv, just want ter get shit-faced. You up fer it, Ray? What say we get out 'o here and go 'n 'ave some fun."

Ray stood without any hesitation.

"Course I'm up fer it, Guv. Be like the good old days again."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene was leaning against the bar, staring down the ample cleavage of the blonde who had been coming on to him for the last hour or so. She was alright, he supposed, pretty enough even though she was wearing far too much make-up for his taste. A vision of Bolly wandering out of the bathroom after a shower, bare faced and glowing, assaulted him and he pushed it away.  
>He knew he'd been drinking heavily, but he still felt far too sober. Time to head home and hit the whiskey. Ray had his tongue down the throat of a petite brunette, so he wasn't likely to miss him. He turned his silver-eyed gaze back to the blonde and she simpered, toying with her hair. He was definitely in.<p>

"Got any plans fer the rest of the evenin', luv?"

"Not specially. What did you have in mind?"

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, and she shivered as his warm breath caressed her skin.

"Back ter mine, few more drinks, and then see how the mood takes us, maybe?"

She smiled, and her hand brushed his groin.

"Lead on, handsome. I'm in the mood to be taken …"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She'd had her hand on his thigh all the way home and then she'd gone to kiss him the minute they walked through the door but he'd resisted, knowing he needed a couple of stiff drinks before he could go through with it. Now she was sitting in his freezing living room, waiting while he fetched a bottle and two glasses.

"God, it's cold in here. I could use some warming up …"

She moved closer, but he got up to check the gas fire was on full blast, throwing a glass of whiskey down his neck before sitting down again and pouring himself another generous measure. He noticed she hadn't touched hers.

"Haven't been home much in the last couple o' days. It'll warm up soon."

She took the glass from his hand and replaced it on the table, her fingers running over his chest as she leaned in to nibble his lower lip.

"Go easy, there. Don't want you … incapable, do we?"

She began to pop the buttons on his shirt.

"By the way, my name's Susie. What's yours?"

"Gene."

Her hand slipped southwards to his groin, and his body started to react as she caressed him through his trousers.

"Well, Gene. Don't you think it's about time we moved this upstairs?"

.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I have no excuse. Nor does Gene, the naughty boy …  
>Hope you enjoyed – kind of! All feedback is more than welcome, just don't throw things at me!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the last chapter – maybe I'll dare to leave the house again now! Thanks for sticking with it, and hope you enjoy the conclusion …

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 5**

Gene was aware of someone else moving around the bedroom, but he was unwilling to open his eyes just yet. His mouth felt like the inside of a postman's sock, his head was pounding and it was easier just to lie there semi-comatose for a while longer. Where was he? He couldn't remember.  
>Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. There was a strange woman, now almost fully clothed, looking down at him and he blinked in confusion, and tried to sit up. It hurt too much, so he collapsed back onto the pillow.<p>

"So you're awake then? Morning, Gene."

His eyelids flickered open again, and she sat down on the bed next to him.

"Susie, remember? You were well gone last night. I warned you not to have that last whiskey."

Suddenly, it all came flooding back. The pub, the blonde, bringing her back here. Oh God, he must have slept with her. He couldn't remember anything after they snogged downstairs on the sofa, but he was naked under the duvet so something must have happened.

"Susie. Yeah. Sorry. Um, did we … er … you know …"

She shook her head, giving him a wry smile.

"Sadly not. You passed out before we had a chance. Terrible waste, if you ask me."

She ran a teasing finger down his chest, and he swallowed, embarrassed.

"Sorry, luv. Too much ter drink …"

She sighed.

"I should have realised you were out drowning your sorrows. Blokes like you don't show up in the Feathers every night, after all. Look, Gene, I'd be up for a second date, but I think I've there's too much competition. Alex, for example."

His eyebrows shot up.

"How …?"

"You were talking in your sleep. Quite a lot. Got me very hot and bothered, I can tell you."

She stood, and picked up her handbag.

"If it doesn't work out, you know where to find me. I don't usually do this kind of thing, I just felt as though we'd clicked. And it's been a while. Is it OK if I call a cab?"

He nodded, and then reached for his wallet.

"Course, luv. An' let me pay, will yer? I owe yer that much, at least."

She took the proffered twenty, and smiled sadly at him.

"I meant what I said. But you won't be back, will you? You're in love with her, the lucky cow."  
>She bent down to plant a kiss on his forehead.<p>

"See you around, handsome."

And then she was gone, closing the bedroom door behind her. Gene groaned and buried his face in the pillow. He'd deal with the mess he'd made of things later. When the room decided to stop spinning.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex walked into CID that morning with a heavy heart. She'd hardly slept, replaying the scene over and over again in her head, knowing she'd hurt him so badly he'd probably never forgive her. She couldn't imagine what it'd cost him to ask, knowing how proud he was and how rarely he dropped his guard. He'd let her in, laid himself bare, and she'd thrown it back in his face. She could hardly bear it, she had to see him, try to make things right. And for once in her life, she had no idea where to start.

There was no immediate sign of him, and she didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned. She tried to act suitably nonchalant.

"Where's the Guv this morning?"

Ray glanced over at her, and then grinned round at the others.

"Probably still in bed with that little blonde bit he copped off with last night. Lovely pair of puppies on'er."

He mimed cupping a pair of breasts enthusiastically, and Shaz took one look at Alex's face and rounded on him.

"Ray! We don't want to know, alright?"

Alex turned her back, trying to pretend all the breath hadn't just left her body. She couldn't believe it. He'd barely left her bed before he'd walked straight into the arms of another woman. The tears pricked her eyes, and she made an excuse about needing to follow up a lead and left the department, not caring that everyone would know she was utterly devastated.

She walked for a while, the tears pouring unchecked down her face, before she stumbled into a nearby park and collapsed on a bench. Glancing around, she recognised the place, remembering she'd been here a couple of times during the summer to eat her lunch. That was before Gene, though. His familiar face with its trademark pout appeared unbidden before her eyes and her heart constricted. What a mess she'd made of things, she thought. Not only had she lost her daughter, she'd lost the man she loved as well.

Molly. She realised it was getting harder and harder to picture her face clearly. She tried to cast her mind back to significant moments in her daughter's childhood, but her memories were starting to fade, running out of her mind like water. She had to face the cold hard truth: this world was now more real to her than her own had ever been. Suddenly, without warning, it finally hit her. She was never going to get back. This was her only reality now, and she needed to deal with it. Molly would be fine, Evan would make sure of that, and they'd meet again one day.

She put her head in her hands and sobbed her heart out for the little girl she would never see again, and when her head hurt and she had no more tears left, she squared her shoulders and tried to think about her present situation. Gene. He was her future now, whatever drunken mistake he'd made. The thought of him with another woman was like a shard of ice piercing her heart, but surely they could get past this if they both wanted it enough. She knew they'd hurt each other badly, but there just had to be a way back. She wasn't going to give up on them now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene woke from an uneasy sleep in the late morning. His head wasn't so bad, and he was convinced a shower and a strong coffee would make him feel almost human again. Then he remembered the events of the previous evening, and his heart lurched. He'd asked her to marry him and she'd turned him down, couldn't even promise that she'd be staying.

He tried to think it through logically. She loved him, she'd told him so and his every instinct made him believe it. He had very little to offer her, and yet she'd chosen to be with him when she could have had any man she wanted. There must be more to it, something vital he was missing. He remembered her reaction that evening when he'd tried to find out more about Molly, and realised he'd been an idiot. This was all connected to her daughter in some way, and instead of staying to try and get to the bottom of it he'd stormed out, got completely hammered and tried to get into another woman's underwear.

He put his head in his hands. Well done, Genie boy. You've just proved yourself to be the Neanderthal she always thought you were. He took a deep breath and stood up slowly. Still time to sort this out if they could just sit down and be honest with each other. He couldn't lose her now, not after everything they'd been through together. He realised he'd do just about anything, beg, plead, throw himself at her feet, whatever it took to get her back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex was sat on the sofa brooding, having very little idea what to do next when she heard his key in the lock. Her heart leapt, and then sank back down into her boots. He'd slept with another woman, and the thought of it was nearly killing her. She had to get round it somehow, or there wasn't a hope for them.

He stepped tentatively into the room, hardly able to look at her.

"Alex. I'm glad yer here. I really need to talk to yer."

She shrugged, looking at the floor.

"Didn't think you wanted to listen, Gene. In fact, I gather you've already moved on."

Dammit, she hadn't meant to have a go at him the minute he walked through the door, it was just eating her up inside. He didn't leave, though, just stuck his hands in his pockets, his face unreadable.

"I gather yer've seen Ray, then."

She nodded, feeling the tears pricking her eyes again.

"How could you do it, Gene? I know I hurt you, but to sleep with someone else the same night?"

He heard the tremor in her voice, and his heart constricted.

"I didn't, luv. It was a stupid drunken mistake. I took her back ter the house, but I could never 'ave gone through with it. Honest."

She looked up at him through her tears, hardly daring to hope.

"You mean … you didn't have sex with her?"

He shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"No, luv. It was never goin' ter 'appen. Poor girl, she was almost sympathetic, told me ter sort things out wi' you. I'm sorry, Alex. Me and me stupid pride …"

She was weeping openly now, and he sat down next to her, not knowing whether to touch her or not.

"I've been going out of my mind here. The thought of you with another woman … I swear I wanted to kill you …"

She launched herself towards him as if to hit him, and he grabbed her hands, pulling her against him until her movements stilled, eventually feeling the tension leave her body. He let her sob against his chest until she quieted, rocking her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Alex. I was just hurt 'n angry."

She sat back, her eyes red with crying.

"I'm sorry too, Gene. I know what it must have cost you to propose, it just caught me unawares. And I need to explain."

He waited patiently, and she took a deep shuddering breath to steady herself. She hoped she could convince him that she was telling him the truth. Everything rested on it.

"You know I have a daughter called Molly, and that I haven't seen her for a while. But that's only half the story. She's in America with her father, has been since before I arrived here. There was a car crash, a bad one. My little girl's in a coma, Gene. She's on a life support machine, but the doctors have told us there's no hope. She's technically brain dead, it's only the machine keeping her alive …"

He took her in his arms again, stroking her back, and she leant her cheek on his shoulder. She hated lying to him, but he'd never be able to comprehend the truth. His voice was gentle.

"God, Alex. Why didn't yer tell me? Yer've been dealin' with this on yer own all this time?"

"I couldn't tell you, Gene, that would have meant admitting that I'd lost her. I think I've finally come to terms with it, though. My daughter's gone, that's not her lying in that hospital bed, it's just an empty shell. I wanted to switch the machine off a while back, but her father won't hear of it and we have to be in agreement. Maybe one day he'll change his mind, but I need to move on and live my life now."

She sat back and searched his eyes, seeing nothing but love and compassion there. He stroked her face, not knowing what to say, but she took his hand and kissed it, a glimmer of a smile playing round her lips.

"Ask me again, Gene."

His brows furrowed for a second, until he followed her line of vision to where the little ring box was still sat on the table. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"You sure? Don' want to put any pressure on yer, luv. I can wait."

She took his hand and squeezed it.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life. Ask me again, Gene."

He swallowed, sliding down onto one knee and removing the ring from the velvet interior, his hands shaking slightly. He offered it to her hesitantly.

"Alex, will yer marry me?"

She smiled at him through her tears.

"Oh God, yes."

He slipped the ring onto her finger, relieved to find it was a perfect fit, and then they were kissing long and slow, pouring all their pent up emotions into it, holding onto one another as though they'd never let go. Eventually they broke apart, breathless and smiling.

"I luv yer, Madam Fruitcake."

She pretended to consider her answer, her head on one side, her brows furrowed, and he pushed her back onto the sofa and started to tickle her. She squealed, fighting him off.

"OK, OK. I love you too. Got a thing for Manc lions, it seems.

His mouth found her neck, kissing and sucking, and she stroked her fingers through his hair, sighing softly. He looked up into her flushed face and she gave him a lascivious smile, wriggling wantonly against him.

"Take me to bed, Mr Hunt."

He grinned wickedly and hoisted her up into his arms before striding purposefully towards the bedroom.

"Oh good. Conjugal rights. Knew there was a reason I was marrying yer."

"I'm not promising to obey, mind."

"Might 'ave ter discipline yer again, then. Only if yer ask nicely, though …"

She giggled as he kicked the door shut behind them and threw her on the bed. Might as well start they way they meant to go on …

.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So am I forgiven now? No more poking with sharp pointy sticks to endure? ;)  
>Thanks for reading. If you liked, let me know – I love to hear from you.<p> 


End file.
